Black Butler: Book of Demons
by EpicaWasTaken
Summary: Ciel and Sebastian are destined to live eternally together. Bound by the contract, Sebastian is forced to be Ciel's butler for the rest of eternity. Or until one of them dies. For Sebastian, this may soon be true. He cannot hunt. He cannot eat. And he is starving to death.
1. Sincerely, Sebastian

**Chapter One**

 **Sincerely, Sebastian.**

My name is Sebastian Michaelis, and that will be my name for all of eternity.

The contract is sealed, with my master, Ciel Phantomhive. His soul is untouchable. Unreachable. Irresistible.  
I should have had it. I craved it. But it was stolen from me.  
And now the soul I so desired for years is trapped within the body of a demon. Or rather, it was destroyed when my master was reborn as a demon.  
We demons simply do not have a soul. Otherwise it would exist in our bodies as a tantalizing scent. An aroma that we would never be able to escape.  
It would be a torture worse than hell itself. Second only to this form of torture is that of starvation.  
And that is precisely why I write this log today.

I believe I may be dying.

If I recall, I may be the first demon to be dying in a natural way, if starvation can be called natural. The only other cause of death for a demon was the sword Lævateinn.  
No demon would choose to die of starvation. No demon would choose to die at all. Yet, I must be dying.

I must be.

You see, I have not eaten in nearly a century. This is because I have waited, so patiently, for the soul I desired. I watched generations of souls come and leave. I've refused many contracts.  
And I patiently waited, until a desperate boy's scream melted in my ears. Beautiful.

Ciel Phantomhive. He was supposed to be the soul to save my life. The soul to satisfy. The soul to be worth waiting a century.

But now he is gone, and I am still his servant. Still bound by the contract.

Still starving.

I believe it was about a week later, when I admitted defeat. The master, still not accustomed to the fact that he did not need to sleep, was asleep late that night. I gave myself the task of finally eating.

I was desperate, you see.

And so I ran, out of our new manor. I ran to the nearest village I could find. I sensed the souls that slept there, but I did not discern or evaluate which one to choose. I acted out of instinct.

I entered a window to a cottage. There, on a bed of rags and dust, a boy unwanted by the world struggled to sleep. His soul was pitiful, equal to that of a scrap. Nothing more than a morsel.

But a morsel was all I needed. It's all I asked for.

I bent down and cupped his head in my hands. He blurrily came to his senses, but all too late.  
I felt his soul, on the cusp of being spilt.

That's when it happened.

My contract seal on my right hand burned, like a hot iron. Normally, I wouldn't have been so sensitive to the pain of a thousand irons, but my lack of sustenance cost me my endurance. I screamed louder than my prey.

I clutched my hand, curling and writhing like an animal. The pain was unbearable.

Once the fire on my hand died, I stared at the mark. It was black and etched into my skin. It still simmered and smoked.

It taunted me.

It told me I can't eat.  
I can't hunt anymore. The contract does not allow it.

I, Sebastian Michaelis, am dying of starvation.

 **Dear Reader,**

 **Hello there. I'm the author of this story, Epica. Good to meet you. Glad to see that you like Black Butler.**

 **How are you enjoying the story so far? I'm enjoying writing it, so I hope you are enjoying reading it. I have a little favor to ask of you. Whether you are new or a veteran here, I would really appreciate it if you left a comment or review below to tell me what you thought of this story. Don't worry, you don't have to write a novel. Just a few words that'll wake me up, you know?**

 **Also, if you have a friend that you think may enjoy this, then be sure to share it with them! Especially if they happen to have a body pillow of our favorite butler.**

 **If you make it to the next chapter or two, there will be more in this little letter to look forward to. But for now, since I don't want to scare you away, I'll just leave it here.**

 **Best wishes,**

 **Epica**


	2. Business as Unusual

**Chapter Two**

 **Business as Unusual**

My life is different now. No longer do I bear the weight I had before. The weight of grief. The weight of hate.

No longer does time matter to me.

I, Ciel Phantomhive, am a demon.

Life for me, is an unusual haze of confusing times of day. Sebastian tells me that I no longer need to sleep, but the urge to lingers on every time it gets dark. I imagine it is a habit I will soon forget. Just like the rest of my life that I lived out as a human.

It's all gone now. The feelings I had, the person I was, whatever I cared about before this happened...it's all gone. I don't exactly feel anything. No emotions. And I don't feel sorry for the mansion I took as my own. Although, truly, I wouldn't have felt sorry before.

Because of my change, we had to leave the Phantomhive manor, and everyone we ever knew. We travelled south until we came upon an old, barely upkept mansion of a strange noble, Carl Sakrate. If I remember correctly, he was a disturbing hermit that only kept this place because of his last name. Nevertheless, it was easy enough to order Sebastian to do away with them. Since then, we've used the Sakrate manor as our temporary home, and I've only slept in it for a few nights. I've ordered Sebastian to keep watch.

For what, exactly? I don't know.

I have no enemies anymore. No motives. No targets. I have nothing to live for, but nothing to kill me either. Becoming a demon strips me of the shame I bore as a human, but robs me the satisfaction of life. The finality of death. Everything is so much different now, and only one priority stakes a place in my mind.

Sustenance. Food. Souls.

They have a scent. Sebastian never told me they have such a powerful scent. At any time I am near a human, I can smell the soul they have stored within them. Some souls smell of rotten meat, while some have nothing tasteful to them at all. Boring and bland, like crackers. Or disgusting and foul. Such are the deeds of pale and sour men. And then…

And then there are the valuable souls. In these last couple of days, I have learned why Sebastian desired my soul so much. I can feel his desire inside of me. Understanding what a proper soul smells like is something that has never left the back of my mind since I first changed.

And I will never forget who it was. The first good soul I sensed. The only true good soul I knew.

Lizzy.

"Aren't you enjoying our dance?"

I was holding Elizabeth close to me, the closest I had ever dared, in our dance at Phantomhive manor. Before, I had sneered at the thought of dancing with her again. Now, with my previous feelings gone, dancing felt easy. Pleasant even.

I supposed I hadn't first noticed the smell.

"Oh? I am, Ciel!" She blushed along with that. It was a curious, sensitive blush that I knew all too well. Her emerald eyes flickered to my fingers that intertwined with hers.

She must have worn some new perfume today. Because as I felt her draw closer, there was an undeniable smell of roses. In fact, it smelled distinctly of the white roses in the garden. The ones I had specifically ordered Sebastian to plant when our contract was first established.

My favorite white roses. Elizabeth was drenched in that smell.

Out of the corner of my vision, as I swept her along, I saw Sebastian standing faithfully near a tray. His eyes were as steady as the tune, the beat in which we danced to. But his grin...it was a knowing tone. A mocking little smirk.

With a single flash of his crimson eyes, I knew that he sensed it too. His lips parted in what I could only assume was a chuckle.

I wanted Elizabeth, and he knew it.

Her soul...it smelled so delicious, and he knew it was driving me mad.

Now, all I can think about is how rotten these souls smell. How awful they taste. I have had nothing to do today but smell the stench emanating from the cellar below me. I can hear the muffled moans, the pitiful humans Sebastian trapped down there. The head of the Sakrate Estate, and his servants. I looked to Sebastian, his pale skin just barely reflecting in the early morning sun's light.

These were stupid, ignorant men. Hardly souls worth consuming.

But I was hungry.

 **Dear Cool Reader,**

 **Hey. It's Epica again. So, did you like that?**

 **I liked that. I liked it a lot. I liked it so much that I wrote it. Cool, right? Well, like I promised, since you made it here, there's going to be more to this letter than there was in the introduction, so hold on to your pants.**

 **Or skirt. Wouldn't want that to fly off.**

 **I, am a YouTuber! And that really doesn't mean much. Not that much at all. But, considering the fact that you are reading this now, you might enjoy the stuff I upload on my channel. So, here. Check it out. It'll be great. Promise.**

 **channel/UCS4HL4U4EB336G813DAH-Uw**

 **And also I am...well, that's it. I write. That's all.**

 **Well, that was fun. I hope you enjoyed chapter two. I'll see you in chapter three, hopefully.**

 **Unless I die or something.**

 **Which would be bad.**

 **Uh.**

 **See you later. 3**

 **Best to ya,**

 **Epica**


	3. In Secret, Sebastian

**Chapter Three**

 **In Secret, Sebastian.**

My young master has far less to do in this manor.

This, however, no lessens my duties as his butler. In fact, my daily tasks have only increased since our transfer to this filthy, Sakrate household. The rooms must be cleaned, maintained, and repaired in some cases. Each window pane must be removed of dust, and nearly every carpet must either be removed or replaced. The kitchen and dining room are in no shape for use, as all cupboards are bare.

Although, it isn't likely we will be dining any time soon.

Make no mistake. Demons can consume human food. (I myself have sampled a cake or two.) However, it gives us no nutrition. It is simply a taste.

As for the real food in this manor, the young master ordered me to place the men we found here in the cellar below the estate. The servants, most likely a dozen of them, and the wife of the head of the manor. Then, the head himself. All, somewhat valuable in soul edibility, especially the wife. She seems to have been through quite some trauma.

She smells of oakwood fire. A savory smell I can't seem to forget. My lord seems to smell it as something close to a candle, or a freshly plucked apple. Naturally, he would. Every demon's perception of a soul is different, just as every human's palette differs in preferred taste.

In all of my years, I have come to know many demons. Not personally, as we do not normally converse. But through honest study of reliable human records, I have come to realize that all demons carry out their lives in a different way. Some binge on human souls, and leave cities to waste. Others, much like myself, wait patiently for the proper prey. Still others, the ones often written in tales, torment the prey into a delicious form of insanity. I myself, do not approve of the taste of an insane soul.

But taste is something I cannot afford to write about any longer.

I suppose I should inform you, reader, why exactly I am writing. You see, before, it was a job of mine to create a short log every day of my young lord's activities. I kept records of where he went, what he bought, what he ate, and so on. (I am now quite adept at shorthand.) Now, he has requested I stop making this record, as it is useless now. Be that as it may, I still have spare hours to fill that once consisted of writing that record.

In other words, I now write this log to myself. Not to merely fill the hours, but to tell the events that have transpired since my master's transformation into a demon. Also, to document my own behavior.

You see, demons have never been one for writing. We never find a purpose to keeping record of something eternal. Since we never die, there is never any value in making note of knowledge. But now, as it seems...I am dying. In a slow, undramatic sense.

Knowledge has become precious. The words of the dead are of much more value than those of an immortal. And so, I write. I write on every numbered day I have.

Enough of that.

There is still much more work to be done. Without the handicapped hands that once plagued me in Phantomhive, I am able to work without much distraction. However, it does seem rather uneventful here. I fear my master will soon grow bored.

We demons have a tendency to do that. And what comes next, is our form of entertainment...the cultivating of a proper soul. In an odd sense, demons are much like fine culinary artists. We master the skill of seasoning a proper human soul into something to be worshipped.

"Sebastian."

I snapped out of my daze, quill still pressed between my fingers as I glanced up at the door ahead of me. He stood there, his cane fit perfectly in his palm. He hadn't grown one inch, yet felt so different. His presence was no longer a pleasure to me. I could no longer smell the sweet soul that slept inside his tiny body.

"You are acting strange." He said, "I could have easily made a dartboard out of the skin between your eyes."

"Think nothing of it, my lord." I stood and quickly bowed my head, "I was only assuring that our quills were in proper working order. A lengthy test was only a befitting requirement to see of their function."

 _That was far too narrow. The excuse of pen testing can only be used this once._ I lifted myself up and walked to my master's side. _I must keep my vigil. If the young lord sees what I have been writing on those papers, he will surely know of my condition._ I placed my hands behind my back as a sudden pain shot through my side. I did not wince. I did not react.

The pain went away just as quickly as it had appeared. And I kept it all concealed inside, without worry or acknowledgement. He turned and walked outside the study, gesturing for me to follow. I allowed myself then, to press three fingers to the ache that had already begun to relapse. Internally, I shuddered. I quaked.

Then I walked. Nothing had happened. And nothing will happen, at least not in front of him.

After all, if I couldn't hide the fact that I was starving from my master, then what kind of butler would I be?

 **Dear Person Of Greatness,**

 **Okay, now I need to act serious for a second. This is very hard for me, so pay attention.**

 **I may have been thinking a little. And my thought was this...**

 **I wanna make this idea into a novel. Like, a full fledged novel. That sounds a little crazy, and trust me, it is. Because I am in college. And I am already dealing with my own novel, so making another one is kind of...impossible.**

 **So yeah. i'll try. But you know. it may not work, exactly.**

 **Okay, back to insanity! I'll see you later!**

 **With Lotta Love,**

 **Epica**


	4. Unrefined, As Unusual

**Chapter Four**

 **Unrefined, As Unusual.**

"I believe it is time to welcome our guests, Sebastian." I said as he followed me down the hall, passing the kitchen, "They've been quite eager down there to meet us, don't you agree?"

He responded just as quickly as he usually did. There was no change. There wasn't even a flicker in his painted, satisfied smile.

"Indeed, my lord."

But something still felt different. Something about him felt disheveled, missing. I studied his face further as he stared back at me. He held our gaze before I finally looked away.

I passed a small table with my old set of darts strewn about it. I'm unsure why Sebastian brought this set. Perhaps as a memento of our past experiences?

I stopped next to the table. No, something was definitely wrong with him. I picked up one dart and threw it at him.

He caught it. By the feathers, in between his index finger and thumb. Blinking, he threw it back just as quickly.

I caught it, but regrettably more clumsily. My hand stung with the dart's piercing end. There was no smirk. No request for the games to be played later.

Sebastian simply passed by me. Silent.

Perhaps I was just unaccustomed to a Sebastian who knew his prey was no longer helpless.

"You are unrefined, despite being reborn as a legitimate demon." He said, as I walked behind him.

"Pardon?" I snapped.

"I am only being truthful, master. I cannot say otherwise."

"Then kindly keep your opinion to yourself." I said, brushing him as I stepped around him, "If I wanted to hear what you had to say, I would have asked."

"Understood."

Only a couple seconds later, after we descended down the stairs to the cellar, did I notice that he did not refer to me as master.

But the smell made me forget about that.

I saw them, the four servants of the house tied to the pipes of the furnace. The furnace was, of course, off, but that didn't stop the men and women from struggling against the ropes.

Funny. Sebastian used rope. I would have fancied bending the poles to pin them. Perhaps we demons do differ.

I walked straight to the woman, the wife of the household. Sebastian stopped following me the instant we reached the last step, standing still with his constant eyes on my shadow.

I bent down to her, paying him no mind.

"My." I let my cane rest beside her bent form. Both her hands were tied above her, the drab wool dress doing a horrible job of covering her tan skin, "You are beautiful." I reached out to cup her chin in my hands, but she wrenched away.

I chuckled.

"Indeed. Maybe not on the surface, but below that…" I placed my hand on her shoulder, slipping my fingers behind her neck, just below her hairline, "Inside, you have something I'm very much going to enjoy."

She shuddered. Involuntarily. She was terrified. I felt Sebastian's eyes on me, studying. Wondering perhaps, how I would go about taking this woman's soul. He offered me mercy when it was my time to be consumed.

"Perhaps you want a taste?" I turned a little, laughing, "After all, you did get to smell her first." I dug my nails into her neck, and she flinched, "Just perfect. Like apples from the north."

Sebastian didn't move. His eyes, heavy but constant, stayed glued to me. Letting a small sigh escape me, I held my fingers close to my face as I tasted her blood. Pure, yet broken. She was a wonderful soul.

I couldn't take the aroma much longer.

"Sorry, madam." I gripped her face, drinking in the look in her eyes. The wide eyes she had, they reminded me of a deer after the arrow is shot. The turn its head makes before it is taken from this world.

That stare.

It was beautiful.

I dug my fingers into her neck, until I felt them brush the insides of her cheekbones. Her wide eyes jutted. Her tongue and teeth instantly were covered in a deep red. It gushed and spilled onto my knees.

The smell of crisp apples for a short instant turned into something much more powerful. It was the smell of roses. Red, velvet roses.

Sebastian once mentioned that suffering and pain can refine a soul. The taste the soul becomes is different with each kind of torture. Mental is different. Trauma is different.

Physical is different.

And this...this is what this soul needed. The fire of physical pain made the taste overpowering. I held her trembling head in my hands.

"Sebastian…" I turned to see him, "This is…beautiful."

His eyes were crimson. And they seemed surprised.

"So, this is the kind of demon you are to become." He said lowly, "The predators. The scavenging savages that destroy the bodies of those they chose to steal away." He came to my side, swiftly removing the cane before blood flowed where it was,

"Truly, master, I was correct. You are an unrefined sort of demon."

But I paid him no mind. The smell made me forget.

The taste made me shudder as a black aura covered both me and the beautiful soul.

I felt something then. Something beside the gargled scream from the women I held captive. Something besides the blood that drenched my sleeves, my trousers, my nostrils.

I felt something inside me come alive.

I felt good.

 **Dear Probably Best Person Ever,**

 **Hey! Hi! How is it? How was Thanksgiving for you? I mean, only if you celebrate that sort of thing. If you don't then well...**

 **...**

 **The holidays are kinda to blame for this chapter coming up late. My bad. Family combined with being home for awhile make me really slow to write. But hey, it'll soon be back to the university with me, so writing will get back on schedule soon enough!**

 **Until then, share this with all the fangirls! See you next time.**

 **Hoping I Didn't Offend Someone Somehow,**

 **Epica**


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